


To Say Nothing of the Goose

by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, POV Steve Rogers, Ridiculous, Waterfowl, bucky has a foul mouth, did i mention this is ridiculous, i can't believe there is a waterfowl tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 10:24:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6466621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monkeygreen/pseuds/leveragehunters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geese are evil bastards. A lesson we all must learn, even Steve and Bucky. Luckily, there's a convenient tree in which to perch.</p><p>Purported humour, some fluff, and an evil goose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Say Nothing of the Goose

It was pre-dawn, barely enough light to see by, but it was their favourite time to run the track by the lake: peaceful, with few people around. Steve had stopped to use the cross-training equipment; Bucky had kept running.

Steve was surprised when his phone lit up to tell him Bucky was calling, Bucky who, when he answered, said, "Steve, I could use a hand here."

He didn't worry. The words would have been enough, not so long ago. But the words in _that_ tone, dripping with irritation, an old, oh-so-familiar someone-was-about-to lose-their-teeth tone, well—that wasn't something that said _he_ should worry _._ "Where are you?"

"Big tree, down by the iron benches."

"On my way."

It didn't take him long to get there, and he didn't see Bucky at first, not until he actually looked _in_ the tree. Steve grinned up at him. Bucky was balanced gracefully, even elegantly, on one of the tree's huge limbs. "Having a bit of trouble there, Bucky?"

"Shut your mouth, you punk."

"Mind telling me why you're up a tree?"

A sudden raucous honking and a blur of white feathers exploded out from behind the trunk. Steve felt a stabbing pain in his ankle and was buffeted, smashed across the legs and hips by a vicious flapping. It was a natural reaction to shimmy up the tree and perch on the limb across from Bucky.

Sounding extremely satisfied, Bucky replied, "And that'd be why I'm up a tree."

Steve settled himself on the limb opposite Bucky's, not quite able to match Bucky's effortless grace, and they stared down at the spawn of Satan masquerading as a goose. "What's it even doing here?" Steve asked.

"Do I look like an expert on rampaging waterfowl?" Bucky replied. "I was minding my own business, stopped to stretch, and the thing came out of nowhere, went for...let's just say we're both damn glad I'm fast enough it didn't hit what it was aiming for."

"Where...?" Steve asked, glancing away from the goose.

Bucky just looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

Steve winced and held up a hand. "Right."

They went back to staring at the goose, which was pacing back and forth at the bottom of the tree, hissing up at them, beak opened wide, tongue vibrating, little specks of saliva spraying into the air.

"It's got teeth. Why the ever loving fuck does a bird need teeth?" Bucky asked, sounding personally offended.

"Not sure I want to know the answer to that," Steve replied. It was not a question he'd be writing in his notebook. He peered down at the goose, struck by a sudden thought. "Do you think it knows it can fl— ."

"No." Steve was abruptly silenced when a warm hand clamped over his mouth. Bucky had snaked his left arm around the tree, sleeve-covered metal pressed up tight against the trunk, and slapped his right hand over Steve's mouth. "It'll hear you," Bucky hissed under his breath.

Steve raised deeply unimpressed eyebrows at Bucky and waited for him to move his hand.  When it finally dropped, he said, "I don't think it can understand English."

"You a hundred percent sure about that?"

Steve looked down at the goose, which was staring up at them malevolently. Could have been coincidence, but it chose that moment to beat its wings and hiss threateningly, giving them another good look at the serrated teeth filling its beak.

"I think it's HYDRA," Bucky decided.

"Bucky, the goose is not HYDRA."

And this whole thing was ridiculous. They could easily overpower a goose, for god's sake, but not without hurting it, more likely killing it, and they weren't going to kill a goose... Steve glanced over at Bucky who was locked in a death stare with the bird. Okay, _he_ wasn't going to kill a goose.  "So what's the plan here?"

"If I had a plan that didn't involve roast goose for dinner you think I would have called you?"

And Bucky always had been able to read his mind.  "Jump out of the tree and run away?"

Bucky slowly shifted his gaze from the goose to Steve. "Jump out of the tree and run away. Great plan. I can see why all the history books have you down as a master tactician. I mean, why didn't I think of that?" Even the goose looked unimpressed. "Jump out of the tree and run away. Can you believe this guy?" The goose honked, long and loud. "I hear ya, pal."

Their temporary détente came to an end when the goose let loose another foghorn honk and charged the tree, wings flapping madly, hooked feet digging into the bark as it scrabbled desperately, trying to reach them.

"Guessing it can't fly," Steve observed.

"You think?"

The staccato tapping of metal on concrete cut off Steve's reply and they looked up to see an old woman, hunched over her cane, blue hair shining in the rising sun, heading straight for their ludicrous tableau.  

"Perfect," Bucky said, sounding satisfied. "When it goes for her we can put your genius plan into action."

"Bucky," Steve said, in his very best Captain-America-is-disappointed-in-you voice, eyebrows drawn together in disapproval. Hardened criminals would have been weeping and promising to call their mothers.

Bucky just smirked at him. "It's her or us, Steve."

"Ma'am!" Steve called out, pitching his voice to carry. "MA'AM!"

She stopped, peering up until her eyes found them in the tree. Vigorously shaking her cane in their direction, she hollered, "What are you boys doing up there? You can't just climb trees in this park like a pair of hooligans! There's rules."

The goose whipped around, beady eyes fixed on the old woman. Steve prepared to jump out of the tree and Bucky gave him a sardonic look. 

"There you are, poor baby." The old woman was practically cooing. Bucky and Steve looked at each other, and then at the goose. The goose who was now mincing towards the old woman, pretending it was something other than a demon from hell in feathered form. "Did they hurt you?"

"Uh, ma'am?" Steve ventured, and she fixed him with a vicious glare.

"Must be where the goose learned it from," Bucky muttered.

"Climbing trees, threatening innocent animals." The goose rubbed its head against her hand, as if it wasn't obviously an agent of evil. "I should report you to the park rangers!"

"Jump down and run away?" Bucky suggested

"Yup."

They leapt out of the tree and, scrambling to hang onto something that vaguely resembled dignity, instead walked very quickly. The yells of the old woman—punctuated by an occasional honk—eventually faded away.

Shoulders brushing, they walked in silence as the park came to life around them. The early morning hour seemed to have kept anyone from observing—or recording, thank god—their goose-related adventure.

Bucky was picking at his left sleeve, which had gotten soaked in sap. "Pretty sure the goose was HYDRA," he finally said.

Steve looked at him out of the corner of his eye but didn't say anything.

"And the old lady." Bucky wrinkled his nose and gave up poking at his sleeve; it was completely cemented to the metal of his arm.  "And the tree. This is gonna be a pain in the ass to get clean."

Steve stopped, overwhelmed with a rush of warmth and affection and _love._ This was going to go down as one of the most ridiculous mornings of his life, and he'd deny to his dying day any of it had actually happened, but here was Bucky, _joking_ about HYDRA, snarky and sassing and _happy_ underneath it all. Steve was pretty sure he was grinning like an idiot and couldn't bring himself to care.  

It took only a few paces for Bucky to realise Steve had stopped and he turned, walking back to peer at him. "Everything okay there, Stevie? You looking to attract more wildlife?"

Steve shook his head and reached out to wrap his fingers in the front of Bucky's shirt and tug him closer.  

Bucky smirked and let him. "Something you want to say?"

He slipped his arms around Steve's waist and Steve didn't care that he was getting smeared with sap. _Seems oddly appropriate, somehow_.  "The tree was not HYDRA," Steve said firmly, leaning in to kiss him, just once, just lightly.

Bucky raised a dubious eyebrow, but a smile was lurking at the corners of his mouth.

"The old lady was not HYDRA." Steve kissed him again, firmer, lingering, not pulling back.

"What about the goose?" Bucky's eyes were gleaming with laughter as he pressed closer, arms tightening.

Steve grinned against his mouth. "Okay, maybe the goose."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Geese don't actually have teeth, but they _look_ like they have teeth, and that's pretty terrifying.


End file.
